The Argument to Rule Them All
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: They have an argument, and it goes on, and on and on. Perhaps an ex will save Draco and Harry's non-existent relationship. Rating for language and sexy talk.


"Well fuck you, Malfoy!" Harry Potter slammed the door on Draco's face, and collapsed into a sobbing heap as soon as he heard the Apparating pop. His heart was crushed, and so was his foot. "Shit," he muttered, and rubbed the cramp better. His raven hair was messy against the door, and his glasses were askew. That was the last time he was having angry sex. After a few minutes of crying, Harry got up, and walked to the fireplace. "Hermione Granger," he told the embers, and away he Floo'd. Hermione's house was one of the only Muggle houses that Harry had been in since the War. It had been her parents, before the war, and so Hermione felt comfortable in it. She spent most of her time there, though she and Ron had brought a place just around the corner from Diagon Alley. Harry landed on the laminate floor with a soft bump, and stood up, rubbing his behind. "Hermione?" He called out through the living room. He knew that she must be home, despite the silence, because her favourite coat was hanging on it's peg, and her trainers were by the front door, caked in mud. Harry smiled at the picture of Hermione and Ron on her mantle piece, and laughed to himself as Ron fell over. "Harry?" Hermione came down the stairs, covering herself in a pink bathrobe. "Harry, is that you?" "Yeah," Harry sighed sadly, cursing himself for that snippet of happiness. He slumped down on the sofa, and burried his head in his hands. "Oh," Hermione rushed over, and sunk into the seat next to Harry, and wrapped an arm around him. "Do you want a drink? Tea? Hot chocolate?" "A coffee would be good, or perhaps something stronger, "Harry admitted, and rested his head on Hermione's shoulder. "No, Harry. It's late." She looked up at her wall clock, "it's one in the morning." Hermione glared at Harry, "what the hell are you doing up?" "Well, the dick head came over," he laughed sheepishly, "and then he came over." Hermione showed signs of protest, but Harry held his arms up in defense, "we had an arguement." "Oh, Harry..." Hermione pursed her lips, "you knew it was coming. He'll come back," she said soothingly, "he just needs a few days to cool off." "Yeah," Harry exhaled, "maybe I don't want him back." Hermione scoffed, "yeah, right. Now come upstairs and sleep. You look tired." Hermione lead Harry up the stairs, made up a bed in the spare room, and watch him drift instantly to sleep. "Bless him," she smiled to herself, and summoned her half-drunk tea. She perched on the edge of her bed, and sipped happily. Her landline rang loudly, echoing throughout the house. "Damn," she brought her cup down with her, and answered the living room telephone. "Hello?" She mimicked her mother's polite voice perfectly. "HEY HERMIONE! HOW ARE YOU?" It was Ron. "Ronald! Stop shouting!" Hermione laughed, and sat on the sofa's arm. "I can hear you just fine. I'm alright, thanks, Harry's sleeping at mine. How are you?" "Why's Harry there?" Ron asked, his voice raised but not shouting. He was learning. "He and Draco had an argument, I think. But he's sparko now, and he'll probably owl him in the morning. I didn't want him wandering around when he's angry, though. It won't do him any good." Hermione explained. "Do you know what the argument was about?" Ron inquired. "No," Hermione sighed, "I don't think he wants to talk about it. He's post-sex at the moment, so he's probably not in the mood to talk about anything." "Want me to come over in the morning? Ron was finally talking at the correct volume. "Sure," Hermione drained her tea, "but I'm going to bed now. Don't bother using the Floo, I'm going to seal it for the night." "Okay, pumpkin. I love you." "I love you too. Goodnight." "Goodnight." "Draco," Pansy brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror, "you're going to have to apologise. You were in the wrong, too." Draco turned the shower off, and wrapped a towel around his naked body. "No," Draco shook his head, "I wasn't." "Oh lay off it! Daddy isn't here to make it all better, and Blaise and I are fed up of your moaning. Go sort it out, for goodness sakes." She pulled her hair into a pony tail, and magically applied her makeup. "If you don't apologise, then you'll get nowhere, and you'll mope and be unhappy, and nobody wants that. Especially me. I'm too young for a child." Draco got out the bath tub, and Pansy smacked his behind as he walked past. "Hey!" He jumped, and glared at Pansy. "I'll stop when it isn't perfect," Pansy shrugged, and shut the bathroom door behind her. "Now, are you going to go see Potter after work?" "Do I have to?" Draco whined. "You have to sort things out," Pansy said firmly. "I don't wanna!" Draco moaned. "DO NOT MAKE ME USE YOUR MIDDLE NAME!" Pansy followed Draco into the bedroom, and watched him get dressed. "Now, are you, or aren't you?" "Fine." Draco muttered, and finished his daily routine after Pansy Apparated away. Nine fifteen in the morning, and Draco had just arrived at his coffee shop. Luna Lovegood, one of three other employees, was scrubbing tables. Her blonde hair was pinned up, and she held it together with three pencils. Luckily, she didn't use them to write. "Hello, Draco," she smiled warmly as Draco hung his coat up. "How are you?" "I've been better, so I'm just gonna go sulk in the back room. You can manage, right?" Draco leaned on the bar, and fiddled with a napkin. "I'll owl Dean, if not. Have a nice sulk." Luna stood up, and turned over the sign on the door, so it read 'open'. The back office was boring, and Draco found himself snoring before long. He had gotten no sleep, even at Pansy's. He let her coil herself around his body in her over-sized bed, but even her rhythmic snoring couldn't send him to the Land of Nod. He dreamt about black horses, and Muggle television, and home-made ice cream. Perhaps he needed to catch up on his sleep if his dreams were so weird. He didn't mind the odd dream that made him feel like he'd taken acid, but nevertheless, he'd rather not have them at work. Oh well. At least it wasn't about Potter. That reminded him, unfortunately, that he had to talk to his ex-boyfriend at some point during the day. When he woke up, he even debated owling the Auror office right then, begging for forgiveness, but then he shook his head. "No," he told himself, "you're a Malfoy. You're not needy." And so, and hour after waking up, he dragged his feet heavily through the back office, and into the main coffee shop. By now, people were milling about, ordering coffee, reading books and newspaper and talking amongst themselves. Luna, as it turned out, hadn't owled Dean, but he was still leaning over the counter, helping himself to chocolates. "Morning, Draco," he smirked, spooning more and more chocolate syrup into his mouth. "Good sleep?" "Yes, thank you, Dean." Draco nodded curtly, and tied a dark green apron around his waist. He rubbed his eyes, so he could see properly, and took an order from an elderly Muggle. "How may I help you, ma'am?" "Could I please have a coffee to take away? It's too busy in here for my liking." Her accent was posh, and she turned her nose up as she spoke. "Of course. Any milk or sugar?" "Just a cream, please. Make it a decaf coffee too. And a few of those ginger biscuits that you have. I like those." "Of course, ma'am. Good to hear." He set about making the coffee, and grabbed the biscuits from the cupboard, and turned around to the woman. Draco recognised her; she came in often, usually with her daughter and grandson, but today she was on her own. "No Penelope, ma'am?" Draco asked, handing over the goods. How he hated being polite so constantly. "She's working, young man. In a proper job." She snatched her drink and biscuits, and thrust the exact money into Draco's palm roughly, and stomped away. "Her husband died a few days ago," Luna leaned in and informed Draco, "she'll be on edge for a month or two. She'll calm down soon enough. I wouldn't worry." "Trust me," Draco spat, his drawling voice contrasting with Luna's lofty one, "I wasn't." At quarter to six, Draco was closing up. He'd spent nearly an hour filing and cleaning by himself, and he was glad of the lack of company. Working in somewhere like a coffee store was always hard, because even when the shop was empty, people where everywhere. He liked peace and quiet, and being by himse- "Draco?" The bell rang over the door, and Draco heard stomping feet on the doormatt, and clothes being removed. "Are you in the back?" "We're shut," Draco called, taking out a quill, and finishing the accounts of the day. "It's me," a hand pushed the office door open, and Draco growled inwardly at the sight. "It's only been a day, Potter. How pathetic." Draco didn't bother looking up, and instead opened a new inkwell in a rich, pleasing red. "Don't call me 'pathetic', Draco, when-" "Don't call me Draco-" "See! You're being pathetic!" "And so were you!" Draco snapped, this time looking up slightly. His handwriting had grown shaky, and the quill was over-inked. "What are you doing here? I'm not a cheap fuck." "You were! Then you were my boyfriend without telling me! Then you get annoyed when-" "Shut it," Draco growled, "drop it now, or so help me Merlin, I will Crucio you into next week." Harry laughed hysterically, throwing his arms up in the air, "wow! Mr Malfoy is just so good at Dark Magic that he's perfected time travel! Well I'm soooooorry Mister Time Turner, but I call bullshit." "I said get out," Draco dropped his eyes to the paper on his desk, and began counting on his fingers, "I have work to do." "Ah yes, anything to avoid the problem." "There is no problem. We're not even together anymore." "We never were!" "Fuck off, Potter." Draco slammed his accounts book shut with a loud thud and stood up, his palms flat on the table. Harry sighed, exhausted. "Floo to mine tonight. Please. I want to talk to you." Draco nodded uncertainly, and Harry Apparated to his flat with a pop. Everything would have gone swimmingly, if someone hadn't had been waiting for Harry in his living room. He had Apparated into his bathroom, because he needed to pee, and when he'd finished, he found the mostly naked Ginny lounging on his sofa. She stood up smoothly when he edged further into his sitting room, and she smiled widely. "It'd be our anniversary today," she waltzed up to Harry, and put a hand on his waist. "I thought we could spend it like we did last Saturday- naked almost all the time, and in different places around the flat." "Uh," Harry swallowed, "I'm expecting guests." "Who is it?" Ginny frowned momentarily. "Draco," Harry nodded, and looked away from Ginny's bare bust. "Oh, he can join in then," Ginny grinned, and kissed Harry. "Off-" Harry pushed Ginny gently, and scowled. "Please leave." "Don't be a spoil sport, honey." She giggled loudly, "you know you've been dying to bend me over the bathtub again." "Stop!" Harry frowned, "I'm waiting for Draco. Please get changed and leave." Ginny huffed, but nodded. "Fine, owl me tomorrow, and I'll show you how flexible my yoga classes have made me." With that, Ginny winked, and collected her clothes. Harry ran his hand through his hair, and sighed, tired. Bang. "Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Harry panicked, and decided that putting his hands over his eyes was the best way to deal with the situation. He didn't need to look to know who had appeared in his flat. The smell of hot coffee and musky aftershave lingered around the fireplace. Clicking could be heard for three seconds, then an explosion of sorts. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" It had to be Draco, with that much venom in the words. "So I turn up ten minutes after I see you, just to say sorry, and you've already had a naked girl in your flat." Harry uncovered his eyes to see Draco's steel eyes melting. "Fuck this, asswipe, I'm leaving." "Draco- no!" Harry, just in time, grabbed Draco's wrist, and found himself being Apparated alongside Draco. With a soft thud, Harry landed somewhere relatively soft. He let go of Draco's wrist, and looked around. "Idiot!" Draco called. They were in a forest, with tall trees around them. "What an asshole," Draco looked down at Harry. "What the hell were you thinking?" "Mainly 'shit, I don't want to leave Draco', actually." Harry stood up defensively, then asked "where are we?" "In my garden," Draco furrowed his brow, "at least, I think this is my garden. It cuts off somewhere, but nobody pays much attention." Harry rolled his eyes, "are we alone?" "Yes," Draco nodded. "Good," Harry walked up to Draco, and hugged him tightly. He didn't say anything, even when Draco shoved him off. "Get off! This isn't somewhere for us to fuck," Draco glared. "I know," Harry bit his lower lip, "I'm just really sorry." "Why?" "I didn't know that you thought of me that way. When you turned up six months ago, I'd never have thought that you'd feel that way. We worked together, then you left. And I missed you, so I asked you for dinner, like anyone would. I didn't realise that you thought it was a date. And I certainly didn't realise that you'd get jealous if I hooked up with my ex." "And how would you feel if I hooked up with Pansy?" "Have you?" "No. But what if?" "I'd be upset. I got used to having you around; I didn't realise that you'd go so easily." "Easy? No." "I asked you for dinner, Malfoy. Not on a date." "Well maybe my school boy fantasies made me believe it was a date." "Well- wait, what?" Draco sighed, "the first time we- you know- it was amazing and special." "...and then I broke your heart right in front of you, right?" "Yes." "I've been thinking about you all day," Harry admitted. "Same here, scarhead." Draco looked at the muddy floor. "I...I really like you, Draco." "Same here," Draco shrugged. "Would you, uh, like to go on a date with me?" "A proper date?" Draco asked, suspicious. Harry looked up at Draco, and walked towards him. He met the gap between them quickly, and scooped Draco into a kiss. As he spoke, Harry linked their hands together, "yes. A proper date for my proper boyfriend." 


End file.
